


Bound and Found

by Keitmeg



Series: Zosan Package [9]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Caring Roronoa Zoro, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Sanji Got off Lightly in the Anime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-04 03:37:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14584116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keitmeg/pseuds/Keitmeg
Summary: There's yearning helplessness in Sanji's silence...





	Bound and Found

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't as grotesque as some of you might think. I just wanted to address this issue (not in detail) since only very few authors wrote about it. The triple Ji are emotionless so something like this happening to Sanji isn't that far-fetched. I also wanted to explore Zoro's persona as a caring lover, not just a nakama.  
> Rated PG-13 for explicit language and mentions of sexual assault.

 

 

Zoro finished training –over two thousand push-ups besides the weightlifting, take that, Mihawk– so he decided some sake wouldn’t be so bad. Bare-chested, he climbs down from the crow’s nest and makes his way to the kitchen. Upon entering, he finds Cook and Nami inside beside the sink talking in hushed murmurs as they clearly didn’t want their conversation picked by prying ears. He frowns before stepping in and flinging them a hasty (curious) glance. The two seem to hold their tongue just in time he walks past them.

Cook’s wearing a simple grey dress shirt tucked inside pale beige trousers, and sandals. He still dared to lecture Zoro about fashion sometimes when now he looked like a drunkard hippie. Nami is wearing a very revealing, crimson red, mini dress. It shows most of her back since it’s a baggy from the chest area but tight around the waist.

He picks out the bottle from the refrigerator despite cook’s hissed chiding to wait for dinner, and just to spite the two, because obviously something fishy is going on, he heads to the padded bench and flops down with a small grunt.

Nami blows a nasal breath and taps cook on the shoulder, muttering something to him which only he can hear. She leaves after sending a nasty glare to the swordsman. Zoro snags a sip of the bottle and spreads his other arm on the headrest as though marking his territory.

Cook just gapes at him and slowly his frown deepens. “You’d have taken that and scram.”

“I’ll sit wherever the fuck I want.” Zoro snaps back.

Cook didn’t answer him right away. His brows twitched and he ruffled his fair strands a little with a funny look on his face. “It’s not what you think.”

Zoro ignores him because you don’t isolate yourself and someone with whom you’re infatuated and have secret chit-chats and then ask people not to misunderstand. He takes another reckless chug, knocking his teeth with the bottle neck.

Cook scrunches up his nose and crosses his arms over his chest –no, he _wraps_ them around himself. “She, um, was just helping.”

He blushes. He is fucking lightening up pink like Luffy’s Gear Second. If he’s trying to cover it up then he’s failing miserably, and it’s amusing when Zoro ponders it.

“I didn’t say anything.” Zoro says, grumpily. “And I don’t care what you do in your free time.”

He and cook _never_ see eye-to-eye. It’s a damn miracle they haven’t caused the ship to sink but he guesses she’s sailing thanks to good wishes making it still afloat despite everything. He and cook can’t and won’t have a good night’s rest if they don’t blow off steam. Just a mere comment spoken nonchalantly and they’d be exchanging strikes and lathing remarks. It’s just how it’s supposed to be, it’s how things are meant to be.

But when Sanji takes that blow and shrinks in instead of retaliating like usual, Zoro knows something is up. Nami must have said something to upset him and the way she looked at Zoro right before exiting the kitchen ought to assert that assumption.

For a moment he considers asking out flat and lay the cards down for Sanji to talk about what the hell has been going on with him lately; yes, _lately_. He’s been acting weird even prior to that incident and Zoro's done. What’s more, he’s been refusing to have sex or even steal kisses like they usually did before reuniting again. He’s stumped but now that he caught Sanji in the act, he makes a note to rock the answers out of Nami because who else could be the culprit beside the scheming witch.

Actually, here’s the thing: after his friends reached the Wano country and after the big battle in which his bounty went up to five hundred million berries that Mihawk’s brazen entrance affected somehow and, in which, Luffy managed to have a one-on-one with Kaido: biggest monster ever hatched. They set sail again with the new crew member on-board Jinbei. Zoro had already heard things about what went down in Big Mom’s territory from the papers and about the tea party that got crashed by Luffy. He also heard tidbits about Judge, the infamous Germa 66 mastermind, and his sons. Articles started to spread around like fire in hell about Sanji’s connection to the organization of assassinates, and if he was part of it before joining the Straw Hats. Zoro, of course, rebuffed the allegations with a snort because the cook’s someone very far from a killer.

As Thousand Sunny continued meandering its way towards Raftel, the crew members took the chance to mend their injuries, relax and just get reacquainted with each other. While he had no problem with that, Sanji seemed more reluctant to. Don’t get him wrong, Sanji is a true prodigy at assembling. If he didn’t want you nosing at his true feelings or intentions, you just couldn’t stand a chance. But Zoro has lived with the guy for over three years now and he thinks he is apt to think of himself as someone who can see right through the guy’s facades. Sanji was still the obnoxious little shit; twirling like a gay hairdresser at the sight of any lady, and kicking him awake and other stuff that are just so him. However, he had become more hot-tempered, simmering to this irascible and difficult version that could be spurred on by just a poke. Then, he slowly started to become restless; smoking more than three packs of cigarettes a day. He was sleeping less and smoking more. He was twitchy and even his spiteful words started to become less and less frequent.

He was changing drastically.

Zoro had tried coaxing him to bed, tried seducing and even out-flat groping and hard French-kissing, but that only pushed Sanji to distant himself altogether.

Zoro stepped back and decided to be the grown up in the situation by giving Sanji a breather. By doing so, he gave himself more space to think and thoughts –sick thoughts started crawling to him.

 Sanji had been so close to getting married to a fine, rich and innocent lady. He had been so close to starting a married life and establishing a family. He and his bride looked so…fitting together, judging by the photo at the moment of reciting vows. So maybe he wasn’t ready to leave all that behind to drop his pants and spread his legs for Zoro. Maybe he had some sort of a wake-up call that his life had been perishing in Zoro's arms and that he needed to call things off.

Maybe he couldn’t stand being near Zoro, let alone getting touched by his rough, cracked and dry hands.

It’s a thought that made Zoro's heart clench and his throat constrict.

“What’ you hiding, cook?” He can’t for the life of him stand it anymore; it’s already been a couple of weeks now and Sanji has been thinking that by ignoring Zoro, the man would somehow read the rejection as a sign of their break-up. It doesn’t work like that, you can’t just break things off by shutting off the other and expecting they swim with the tide. It doesn’t work like that, not in this reality.

Said man swivels so fast in his spot to face Zoro, his eyes wide and, _fuck_ , terrified. “What makes you think I’m hiding something?” He goes for light-hearted but the twitch of his brows gives him away.

Is he even serious, hasn’t he noticed his behavior lately?

Zoro so composedly places the bottle on the table and braces his elbows on his knees, “Despite what you all might think of me, I’m not a complete moron.”

Cook grits his teeth and looks down, “we don’t, um, think –”

“Don’t change the subject.” He demands, coolly. They were getting to the bottom of things today, now, here. “Look, I’m not the best at talking things out or hearing people out, that creeps me out. But you’re different.” – Sanji whips his head up and makes eye contact at last– “If you’re acting all cagey, of course I’m going to worry.”

San, for an unexpected moment, smiles and it’s all warm and meek and pretty. “You’re such a dweeb.” He says, but there’s no venom in the words.

Zoro gulps and digs his elbows into his knees. He really needs to stop himself before he shoots from his seat to pin Sanji down and make love to him until the morning of the next _week_.

“I’m fine.” Sanji assures, and although it isn’t what Zoro asked but he’s glad the man’s at least talking. “I’ve been having trouble sleeping and it’s made me irritable.”

“Like I said, I’m not a moron.” Zoro insists, now slowly lifting up. He’s done giving the man some breather; he’s had two weeks of that. He ambles towards him and almost falters at the way Sanji steps rearward in some sorry-ass attempt to escape him. “Don’t” –he gripes and slams a hand on the counter beside Sanji’s hip– “That’s so unmanly.”

Sanji’s arms remain wrapped around him and his chin remains dipped. “I wasn’t trying to run.”

“Hmm,” Zoro hums on a drawl, his voice deep. “That’s funny because it’s exactly what you’ve been doing the past two weeks.”

 Sanji gulps and Zoro sees his Adam apple bobbing in his throat. He slowly looks up, weary, water-blue eyes landing on his. “Well, maybe you aren’t a quick chaser.”

Zoro's lips pull into a sneer, “it’s just you’re a fast runner, like some damn rabbit.”

Sanji’s cheeks glow red and he slaps a hand to Zoro's chest, “I’m not a rabbit!” he doesn’t pull his hand away and allows it to stay on Zoro's bare chest, leaching some comfort. “If I’m a rabbit, then you’re a grizzly. Grizzlies sleep a lot.” He snakes his tongue out to wet his lips and the action is so fleeting, but Zoro watches it as though in slow motion and he slowly realizes he’s mimicking it.

“Have you grown a liking to the jaws of life?” He asks out of the blue. Despite how taken aback and betrayed Sanji looks, he finds that he can’t keep a reign on his feelings anymore and he needs and deserves some answers. He wasn’t just sleeping with Sanji for fun, despite how he acts about it.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Sanji simply says.

“Do you wish we took her along, so you can rub it in my face?” his voice starts to rise and sound brittle and clogged.

“What?” Sanji bellows, “what’ you talking about?”

“Did you two make some stupid vow to go back to each other so it’s OK to give the moss head bastard some hell to–…?”

Soft lips seize his, so soft he’d fucking melt. He immediately closes his eyes and furrows at the deep loss he’s felt during those two weeks but now being all forgotten with how preciously Sanji is framing his face and angling into his bare chest. He makes a gruff noise and clutches at the hair in the back of Sanji’s head, deepening the kiss and deriving pleasurable moans and whines from him.

 Sanji tears himself from the kiss to pant, and Zoro, like the moron he really is, gawks at the swollen lips and the flushed cheeks and the lust-laden eyes facing him.

“Despite what _you_ might really think, you’re a complete moron.” Sanji chuckles fondly, now collecting himself and looking shyly into Zoro's hungry eyes. “You wanted to talk, alright, let’s talk.” He starts, “this is about the safest place on the ship to bring up stuff that only you and I should worry about, and don’t blame me if it gets too much.”

“’Wouldn’t dream of it.” Zoro huffs and pulls the other by the wrist, steering him towards the padded bench. He motions at him to sit as he drops on his backside as well.

 Sanji is back to wrapping his arms around himself, as though defending himself from invisible force. Zoro gives him a second as the man probes his pockets for a cigarette, lights one and takes a long whiff before breathing it out and slumping on the backrest.

The burble of water covers their erratic heartbeats.

“My family,” Sanji starts, and every nerve and fiber in Zoro becomes taut with concentration. “They aren’t normal” –understatement of the year– “they underwent some modifications which gave them real superpowers. The process also made them inhumane. They can’t feel.” He gazes at the ceiling with a pair of blank eyes. “I was a failure experiment and my body didn’t develop the same way their bodies did. I was weak and a crybaby and a coward. I remember how mother used to deny that to convince me into believing that I was stronger, for someone my age and with my situation. I started to doubt that every time my brothers cornered me and beat me unconscious.” He takes another suck of the cigarette and exhales smoke that soars up in wavy shapes. “It all became part of the past when my sister helped me escape. I was starting to believe everything mother had told me; I was human with an ordinary body while my brothers had superpowers, right? It wasn’t fair. How could I win against something like that?” He backs off the backseat to mirror Zoro's position: elbows propped on knees. “When I met them again, I… my resolve started to crumble. More than revenge, I really wanted them to acknowledge me; acknowledge the man I’ve become. That wasn’t likely to ever happen because they are basically not human.” He curls his toes around the throngs of the sandals and watches how he moves them. “Zoro” –said man’s heart throbs with a vigorous thud– “I’ve been spacing out a lot lately and I don’t get enough sleep which makes me very irritable. I’m aware of all of that. But the reason isn’t Pudding, are you joking. That ship has sailed.” He snorts and adds as an afterthought, “besides, anyone who rides your baloney pony will have a hard time boning a V.”

Zoro can’t help the proud smile that spreads on his lips. He looks elsewhere to wipe it and then nods for Sanji to continue.

Any traces of a smile on Sanji’s lips vanish as his expression darkens. “Yonji, he is our youngest. Despite that, he’s the only one among us who’s taller and more muscular. He also has green hair…” He chews on his bottom lip and rakes his fingers through his hair, cigarette going with them. “Do you understand what I’m trying to get at?”

Zoro turns only his face to look at him.

 Sanji lifts his pupils but remains hunched. His tear-filled eyes fall on Zoro's, “he looks like you.”

Another involuntary heart thud and Zoro considers stopping Sanji from saying any more.

“He looks the exact copy of you, though he slicks his hair to the back in a cowlick, but that doesn’t rid of the resemblance.”

Zoro's throat spasms as he swallows dryly.

“During one of his taunts, my body… it reacted. I couldn’t help it.” He resumes, now facing forward, “it didn’t end well.”

 Sanji falls silent after that, and when it gets to the point Zoro can’t stand it anymore, the cook surprises him when he talks again.

“I was doing laundry just a few days ago and there was some trigger, ended up having a fucking panic attack. I tried to hide and ride it out but Nami spotted me and even helped me through it. She’s been asking me to tell you because it was your right to know which is bull, but I figured the only reason why she wanted me to open up to you was because it was affecting my sex life as well. I started to withdraw every time the idea of how I betrayed you popped out and I couldn’t stand it. I’m not giving you excuses to forgive me. I don’t want you to forgive me. I just don’t want you to think that I regret being with you, it’s far from it.”

So basically what Sanji is telling him is that his bastard of a brother forced himself on him and now he’s feeling guilty because he thinks he cheated on Zoro and that he still doesn’t want to break up.

Zoro scrubs a hand over his face.

How stupid must Sanji be to think that having something like that done to him is somehow his fault, what, because his body reacted? Is he even listening to himself, assault is assault. Zoro doesn’t go around raping people who look like Sanji and who react to his taunts. That Yonji bastard –Zoro's right hand travels to his swords, ready to unsheathe it– laying his hands on someone else’s friend, and buddy, someone’s _lover_.

“I’m sorry,” Sanji’s small voice surprises him again, “I guess I shouldn’t have said anything. I wasn’t OK with the idea either, it’s fucking degrading.”

Of course he would want to keep that to himself; he is a phenomenon for having the courage to come clean about it despite the anguish visible across his face and body language. To make it worse, Zoro looks like that douche. His green hair, the distinct feature that always gave Sanji a chance to mock Zoro and the latter had taken pride in that alone. He was the only moss head. He is tall and muscular. He is totally Sanji’s type. Now some bastard who reminds Sanji of every sad memory from his past has ruined that. Now, every time Sanji looks at him, he must be reminded of the people he hated and lost and wished to be acknowledged by. Fantastic!

“Zoro,” Sanji calls out in a whisper, “you’re being quiet.”

How will he even begin…?

“Look,” the muscle in his jaw juts, “I can’t do anything about the hair, but if you want it gone, I’ll shave it. I’ll get more muscles, too.” He faces the other who is scowling up at him. “I’ll stop looking like him.”

Apparently, that’s only managed to out-sour the mood. Sanji taps his cigarette over the mouth of the alcohol bottle Zoro placed on the table before, he returns it to his lips and sucks again until embers hiss at the end of the cigarette.

“Cook…?” Zoro presses onward.

“Don’t do any of that.” He replies, tightly. “I didn’t unpack my emotional luggage for you to get all self-aware. You aren’t the reason why I dissociate or why I hyperventilate. I’m a mess, but I am managing it. You’ve got nothing to worry about. As for sex, I just need more time.”

Zoro almost slaps himself in the face. He twists around and brackets Sanji’s bony knees with his own. He feels immense relief when Sanji doesn’t shift at the sudden closeness. He leans in close until hot breath lands on his face. “Can I talk, now?” He requests, “You’ve said all you wanted to say, give me a chance to speak.”

 Sanji gives a jerky nod.

“I’m a moron.”

 Sanji hacks a laugh at that, “no argument there.”

“I’m being serious,” he grouses, “Shit, I can’t believe I’m gonna say this; I’d rather bite off my tongue.” His glare relents when he sees the bare confusion in Sanji’s eyes. “I should have realized something wasn’t right. I mean I saw the signs but like some idiot I chose to not talk about it. I can’t say I agree with the way you shunned me out but I should have been more convincing if I really wanted what’s good for you. I’m… I’m sorry.” He finally realizes that he really is. “I was too self-centered, and I didn’t stop to think that it must have been hard on you as well. As for your shithead of a brother, you aren’t to blame. I don’t want you to feel like you betrayed me because you didn’t. It’s just… the idea of me having the same face as the person who hurt you makes so furious.”

“But you aren’t the same.” Sanji is quick to assure, as though he isn’t the one who’s been assaulted and has been panicking and isolating himself; as though he isn’t the one who has been losing sleep and weight. “I’m not so frail as to mix the two of you up, Zoro. I know you’d never hurt me.”

The things that keep coming out of this guy’s mouth…

Zoro claps a hand around Sanji’s thigh, “I’d rather die.” He says with unwavering determination.

Sanji almost loses himself in Zoro's eye but he has the genius to school his emotions, he cups Zoro's cheek and nods.

The way Sanji finished his cigarette in a thoughtful silence afterwards told Zoro the thing he feared the most; the guy was still hiding things, bigger things than Zoro can comprehend maybe. He doesn’t know if time will heal whatever wounds Sanji is refusing to divulge to him, but he is hoping that the anchor he gives him –or he believes he does– will continue to ground the cook. Zoro has zero experience with these kinds of talks but he is glad he and Sanji gave it a try. So as he sags there with his head on Sanji’s lap despite the latter’s pathetic chiding to let him finish dinner preparations, he looks up to behold the long stretch of the pale neck and the visible part of his collar.

“Listen,” he prompts, “I’m not gonna blow if you talk to me more about anything that bothers you. I don’t want to be part of something physical only. If you’re in pain, if you’re happy or if you just want to blow off steam, come to me.”

The expected reaction to Zoro saying something so cheesy which is so uncharacteristically him would be something like ‘fuck off, you’re being so emo’. Sanji only ruffles a hand through Zoro's fluffy hair, slow and kneading movements drive Zoro to sigh.

 

 

 


End file.
